“Maybe we’ll kill each other.” Leopold tugged his fingers through his hair one more time. He looked up at her with a bleak expression. “Rejoice, Your Grace, Edwin has had more family about him than you ever realized. That is theoretically, but not legally, Edwin’s uncle. The old duke’s first born son, Charles Allen. His mother was a chamber maid here.”
Mercy’s brain caught up with Leopold’s words and
then she sat down with a thump. The old duke’s son had been shoveling horse excrement in her stables for the past year. Why didn’t anyone in this dratted family tell her the truth without having to be tortured first?
Chapter Twenty-Four
All in all, Mercy took the news of the enlarged Randall family rather well. She didn’t demand more details, she didn’t raise a fuss. She merely gave him a look that spoke volumes of displeasure at him keeping secrets and headed for the door leading toward her son.
He marveled at her unpredictability. She truly was cast from a very unique mold.
However would he forget her when the time came to go? She had wormed her way into his life and destroyed every trace of contentment he’d thought he’d have when he left Romsey for the last time. Being with her filled the void of loneliness he’d carried with him this last decade. The years to come would be barren and filled with yearning for what might have been if the circumstances of their first meeting had been different.
Would he have met her if she’d not become the duchess? Would he have found his way to her side at a ball and never walked away again? He liked to think they would have had a fair chance of happiness, if his cousin hadn’t married her first. He liked to think he could have courted her properly, taken her driving, and danced with her in a crowded ballroom. He also thought he’d have stolen her away for a kiss. There was no denying he would have wanted that if life had given them free choice.
Walking away from her would kill him.
At the threshold to the next room, she turned back. “Well, are you coming?” Her gaze dropped to his groin, her lips turned up in an impish grin at the double meaning to her words. He shook his head to dispel his gloomy thoughts. Wicked wench. Maybe he should paddle her bare backside just once to see how she liked the experience of being teased without mercy. He crossed to her, but she didn’t open the door.
Instead, she straightened his cravat, smoothed his hair back from his eyes, and then rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. “There now. Perfect once more.”
He rubbed his thumb across her smooth cheek. “What am I going to do with you, sweetheart?”
He lowered his head to brush her lips with his. She tasted sweet, like the sweetest treat at the market, and he loved her with all his heart. He, who had never wanted anyone so badly in his life, was destined for misery without her.
Her smile grew dreamy. “Hold that thought until later. I’m sure we can come up with something.”
Lord help him, but he would likely be thinking about what he could do to her until his dying breath. With a simple touch, and one chaste kiss, he’d renewed his desire for her once more. To rid himself of the uncomfortable arousal, he thought of the one thing sure to cool his desire. He thought of what the old Duke of Romsey had done to them both.
He drew the anger deep into him and gave it free rein. They had all been hurt by the old duke in one way or another. It was just that Mercy didn’t know how much. He would have to tell her eventually. But when the danger had passed was soon enough. Then he could leave when she demanded he go and not worry about any danger to Edwin. Allen would be here. He could ask his cousin to send word if trouble ever darkened their door again.
Lady Venables sat up straighter when they joined her and Edwin. The boy appeared sleepy, draped across his aunt’s lap, quiet and watchful for a change. Blythe seemed so unhappy to see him that he decided he would only stay a short while and then leave. There were many things he could still be doing. Watching out for trouble was imperative.
“I see you are awake again,” she commented, her voice dripping with distain.
“Forgive me, an inexcusable lapse on my part. It won’t happen again.”
Her gaze raked him from head to toe. Not a nice sensation, at all. He sat at a distance from her, listening to Edwin prattle to his mother. When the boy had enough of his mother, Edwin picked up his toys and approached.
Leopold smiled. “What have you there, Your Grace?”
Edwin leaned against his legs. “This is Captain Winston, he’s the best sailor there is.”
Leopold admired the piece and set it on his knee. “I’m sure he is.”
“This one is an infidel.” Edwin shoved the piece in his face. “Mama says my Papa gave me that one.”
Leopold’s chest tightened as he took the small figure from his son’s fingers. The piece was supposed to be an Indian prince. Leopold had found it in the marketplace in Surat and impulsively sent it home to Romsey as a birth present to the boy, along with a whole regiment. He had never imagined that something so small had the power to move him to tears. His eyes stung. His son had something of his that he had given freely, without coercion or threats involved. He glanced at Mercy, watched her eyes widen, and then quickly looked away. It hurt that his cousin had the credit of giving the boy something Edwin clearly cherished. It hurt very much indeed.
Edwin placed the little prince figure in his pocket and gave Leopold another to admire.
“Mr. Randall?” Blythe asked suddenly. “Where was it you said you were while in India?”
“Surat.”
“Do they have such toys in Surat?”
“Yes, I believe they do. They are common enough in the market places.”